


It's not gonna be me

by jperalta



Category: Succession (TV 2018)
Genre: Anxiety Attacks, Depression, Drug Addiction, Hurt No Comfort, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-16
Updated: 2020-07-16
Packaged: 2021-03-05 04:07:42
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,162
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25318048
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jperalta/pseuds/jperalta
Summary: What Kendall thinks about when he's up on the roof at a few points in s2ep4.Kendall is not okay. Trigger warning for detailed description of suicidal thoughts. A bit of a dramatization, because that's me. Sorry. Shit
Comments: 4
Kudos: 19





	It's not gonna be me

Kendall had been in his father’s office, not entirely sure what had just been said but he knew it left his heart aching, just like everything did these days. If he wasn’t feeling numb to the world then he was feeling a specific sort of sadness that left him nauseous and desperate for some sort of release. But even after cocaine, alcohol, everything and anything, it was never enough.

After their meeting, Kendall noticed his chest tightening again, the feeling of electricity pumping through his brain. He winced and grabbed his forehead with his hand. Get it together, Ken, he thought. But all he could focus on was the bitter taste in his mouth and the fact that it was getting harder and harder for him to breathe.

He quickly made the trek up to the roof, walking through the unfinished top floor and up the wooden ramp. As soon as he was outside, he began gasping for breath, horrified by the fact that it felt like all the oxygen had been sucked out of the air. He leaned against the wall of the unfinished room and cursed himself in his head for not being able to calm himself down. He felt like such a complete failure. Visions of the car going off the road kept popping up into his mind, memories of Andrew Dodds’s face and his stupid childlike smile as they flew into the water. Kendall felt warm and freezing at the same time, like he had a terrible fever. Even though he was out on the open roof there still wasn’t enough air. 

He glanced over to the ledge, stared at the short chest-high barrier surrounding it that was tall enough to prevent someone from falling accidentally, but not from jumping on purpose. He should push the thought out of his mind but he couldn’t, hadn’t been able to ever since Shiv’s wedding night. It was always there, even when it was just lingering underneath, the idea that he could be responsible for another death - his own.

As Kendall walked towards the ledge, the breeze picked up, blowing his jacket open so the front pieces were spread across his arms. Then he was being hit in the chest with big gusts of wind that were coming at him so hard he wasn’t sure he’d even be able to move forward if he took another step. So for a bit he was just standing there, arms out, his body suspended in the sky. When it died down again, he nearly fell forward but caught himself. It was always so quiet out there, high up enough that the sound of traffic below was hardly coming through. 

He was at the short barrier now and stepped onto the ledge. When he leaned forward, it was like he wasn’t on a building at all but now was flying - or better, falling. The people on the streets looked so small and carefree from up here, but he knew each one of them had their own miseries to deal with. Who had just received news that a loved one had passed away? Who had just gotten into a fight with their significant other, or broken up altogether? Who was having an affair? Who was guilty of a crime - was it everyone? Who else was like him, had hurt another person unintentionally and was trying to live like nothing had happened? Who else had stood on the ledge of a tall building, peered over the side, and prayed for the courage to let themselves fall?

His spine arched across the barrier and he stood on the tips of his shoes. If another strong gust of wind came at him from behind, he could easily lose his balance and that would be the end of it. Maybe people would think it was an accident, or maybe they’d wonder what he had been doing leaning over the barrier in the first place. Were there cameras up here? Would anyone be able to know exactly what happened? Would his father weep? Would his siblings rejoice? He started imagining it more frequently, more detailed, how he longed for the sensation of spinning helplessly through the air, tumbling past windows, past frightened workers and startled pedestrians. He’d have to find a place where he wouldn’t hurt anyone else, so it couldn’t just be over the street. Maybe over an empty parking lot, or a dumpster, or just the roof of a much lower building. One was visible not too far over. A shot of mania went through his body - it was all lining up so perfectly. He balanced on one foot, knowing that if he swung his leg up high enough he could easily get to the other side of the ledge which was only a few inches deep. Tears were coming to his eyes and he oddly found himself close to laughing. Was this it - the way out? 

“Mr. Roy?” 

Confusion, frustration, anger came pelting at him, his consciousness taking over the tingling numbness he had felt not five seconds ago. There was another voice, another person, and he had to wipe the tears from his eyes but he couldn’t turn around. His hands were gripping the barrier, knuckles turning white, skin still being licked by the breeze. Maybe if he ignored them they’d go away? But he knew he was being too hopeful. The pain in his stomach returned, stronger than before, right back where he started. He rotated, still on the ledge, back against the barrier now. The possibility was still there, whispering in his ear, and he tried to ignore it.

A couple of security guards were standing in the doorway leading back into the building, panting, looking at him like they had never been more confused and concerned at the same time. One of them stepped back, took out a phone and started to speak into it. Kendall couldn’t make out what he was saying - either because the man was too quiet or because of the odd low humming sound in Kendall’s own mind. The other man stepped forwards and for some reason this made Kendall press his body closer to the barrier, as if it was going to keep him safe - whatever he wanted that to mean. Safety now was just knowing he had an out if he wanted to take it.

“Whoa, hey!” The guard said as he stepped towards Kendall. “What are you trying to do - kill yourself?” He said in the way where it was framed but as a joke and, if necessary, a serious question.

But him asking that just brought more tears to Kendall’s eyes, the muscles in his face tensing up as he tried to keep from pushing a scream out into the open air. His knees started quaking and he wasn’t sure how much longer he’d be able to stand up straight.

“Mr. Roy, a gunshot just went off in the building. We need to bring you into the safe room,” the guard said professionally.

A safe room - that’s exactly where Kendall didn’t want to be. A gunshot? He was too numb and confused to make sense of what was happening. This moment wasn’t supposed to come - he was supposed to be splattered on the ground by now.

“Your father is there, worried about you…”

At the mention of his father he took in a shattered breath, craned his neck and stared longingly at the open sky right behind him. The thought of moving quickly, out of the guard’s grasp and over the edge, came over him. His limbs were all shaking now, aching for it, craving the nothingness. And as soon as he was led back into that dark unfinished top room, the aching in his heart came back and he was right back where he started.

~

He was pushed and pulled through the building, hardly conscious of the hands on his body. There were frantic voices down every hall but they weren’t fully registering in his mind. He closed his eyes while the guards guided him. The roof appeared on the black screen of his mind, the feeling of the wind on his skin as he leaned over the edge. 

Then finally he was deposited into a room with his father, and something about the smell and the feeling in this hardly used room, compared to the sensation he had on the roof, made him want to gag.

Logan jumped right up, over to Kendall’s side as Kendall fought to stay upright. “Kendall, are you okay? Where were you?” He can’t help but imagine his tone as a front. Was Logan concerned about him? Or just how this would affect him down the line? It didn’t really matter, though. He’d get back up there, and he couldn’t get the idea out of his head that Logan was only acting concerned to remind Kendall that he belonged to his father. He felt anger, hurt, confusion and sadness, but ultimately - he just felt trapped.

Logan was still looking at him expectantly. Kendall cleared his throat, shared a glance with the guard who had found him before they both looked away, keeping their own truths to themselves. “I’m fine, dad,” he lied. “I’m okay.” Logan’s gaze lingered and Kendall couldn’t look him in the eye anymore either.

Gerri motioned to speak and Kendall was desperate for the attention to be on anyone else for a moment. “Turns out it was a suicide - guy shot himself at his desk.”

Kendall winced, looked down at his shoes, and felt his skin grow warmer as he could feel the eyes on him. He wanted to scream again but stifled any possible sound. The emptiness was growing in his chest and his tears were threatening to spill over again. Maybe he could get away with it now, if he let it out when bad news had just been broken to everyone. But he didn’t have the courage, didn’t have the strength to be so on display in this moment. He walked over to a couch and sunk into it.

~

Kendall got into work early one morning, before most people. He had only a coffee for breakfast before heading up the stairs to the roof again. It was a beautiful day but it didn’t seem right. It should be cold and overcast, or better yet pouring rain, thundering, lightning, a god damn tornado or something - anything more dreary than this ridiculous perfect blue sky. It wasn’t right. It didn’t match what was going on, whatever was even going on.

He finally made it outside, but was halted as he lifted his head and widened his eyes. There was a tall glass barrier around the edge of the roof, maybe seven or eight feet tall. His heart dropped and he immediately wanted to cry. Had the guard told someone he’d seen Kendall so close to throwing himself off? Worse - had Logan seen himself? His stomach was churning, mind reeling as he thought of all the possible reasons why this doubled barrier had been erected. Maybe it was just because of the previous suicide - nothing to do with him at all. But God, maybe it was Logan’s way of saying I see you Kendall, I see you thinking you can get out of this - but you can’t, you’re mine forever.

Logan’s forever. Kendall’s was Logan’s pet, fenced in, unable to escape. Shit, it was all so much. Sure, there were other ways Kendall could do away with himself, but it was the roof that had called to him. In a strangely ironic way it had felt like his safe space, a place where Kendall could go to remind himself that this was a possibility, that he didn’t have to take it anymore. When he was home, he could stare at the razors in the medicine cabinet, or the sheets on his bed. When he was walking around outside he could walk close to the edge of the sidewalk, past quick buses, daring himself to supposedly lose his footing and conveniently fall right in front of a vehicle going so fast he’d hardly have time to think about anything before it was done. At clubs or parties he’d fantasize about purposely overdosing, hoping it would look like an accident, just one line too many and his heart gave out. He came close to it that time at Tom’s bachelor party, until he idiotically told Greg what he was planning and gave Greg the power to take his escape away from him, which of course he had. 

Kendall walked towards the glass still, hoping that maybe it was an illusion, maybe if he closed his eyes he could just walk through it and off the side of the building. But all too soon his nose bumped against the glass, and with tears finally rolling down his cheeks he leaned his body into it as much as possible. But of course it didn’t matter at all - he was stuck.

**Author's Note:**

> Somebody hug me


End file.
